


Shades of Blue Interludes ~ Winter and Spring

by bluedawn



Series: Shades of Blue [9]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Romance, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 07:32:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4213290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedawn/pseuds/bluedawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack, Rose, Nine, a fertility festival, a whole planet of naked, purple aliens and a case of mistaken God-identities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shades of Blue Interludes ~ Winter and Spring

**Author's Note:**

> The write up of the little adventure from Oienzaes VIII Eleven and Rose mention in Royal. Oh, and a whole lot of unresolved sexual tension. Poor besotted Nine.
> 
> I realized the other day that the idea for Rose and the Doctor to be painted colours came from reading the incredible Jessa L'Rynn's story Tangled Up in Blue forever and a half ago, which features an unbelievable hot Nine painted up. You should go read it immediately. It's awesome. Other potential stories coming from this one: A write up of Rose's post-Unquiet Dead fantasy, their individual fantasies post-adventure, the next adventure in Rome...other thoughts? I was contemplating working my way through the episodes eventually with reference to the Shades of Blue stories.

_Spring still makes spring in the mind  
When sixty years are told:  
Love wakes anew this throbbing heart,  
And we are never old  
Over the winter glaciers  
I see the summer glow  
And through the wind-piled snowdrift  
The warm rosebuds below.  
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson_  
  
“Well, here we are then!” the Doctor said, spreading his arms wide and grinning like a maniac for Rose who was perched cheerily on the jumpseat, watching him.   
  
“What’s out there?” Rose asked, bouncing up and grinning back at him.  
  
“I believe you and Jack were arguing about who’d seen the best Christmas celebration and where?” The leather coated man, still practically beaming, crossed his arms, trying and failing to hold in his excitement.  
  
“That’s right. And I still think that Noelanda an’ seeing an actual red-nosed reindeer beats a pleasure planet with a kickline of elves, no matter what costumes they were wearing. Or weren’t wearing,” she said cheekily over her shoulder at Jack who had just entered the room.  
  
“Mmm...you had to of seen these elves, Rosie. Hey! That’s a good idea! Once we leave here, we could go check it out! Leave old grumps here on the TARDIS and have a night out on the town? I could take you dancing! You should see this place, Rose. The bartenders have the biggest -”  
  
“Never gonna happen, Harkness,” the Doctor cut Jack off playfully with a roll of his eyes. “My ship, my rules. And one of those rules is that I will not let you take Rose to any planet that my TARDIS feels so strongly about she even censors its name,” he finished, patting the console and moving toward the doors. Another rule was ‘Jack Harkness does not take Rose Tyler dancing. Ever.’ but he didn’t need to say that out loud, right?   
  
Right?  
  
He shook his head slightly, banishing that line of thought. “Now aren’t either of you apes going t’ask the brilliant Time Lord where he’s taken you?”  
  
“Depends,” Rose said, sauntering up to him and leaning against his arm. His breath absolutely did  _not_  catch when she leaned in close to him like that. He also did  _not_  absently catalogue each of the unique scents wafting up to his nose from her, her shampoo, her lotion, her bodywash, just...her and, finally, he _absolutely_  did not take note that glancing down at her like this afforded him a rather fantastic view down her low-cut, flirty vest top.  
  
Nope, not at all.  
  
“Depends on what, then?” he asked, pretending to be annoyed with her, huffing slightly. Really, he could spend all day standing here like this with her undivided attention on him, tongue flirtily stuck in her teeth.  
  
“On if what’s out there,” she said, shifting so her left arm settled on his right shoulder, finger pointing toward the door, “is the same as what’s in here,” she finished, taking her right hand and tapping him on the temple before settling that hand on his left shoulder, pulling them rather close together.  
  
On the list of things he was decidedly not doing, contemplating leaning down to kiss her and desperately controlling a wave of arousal through his body were suddenly ranked very, very high.  
  
Feeling his hearts speed up, he ducked out of her embrace and under her arm. “I’m offended! Since when have I ever led you astray?”  
  
Both Jack and Rose opened their mouths to speak but he barreled on. “Out there, is Oienzaes VIII and they happen to have one of the best Christmas parties in the whole universe.”  
  
Rose turned to Jack, who had come up to stand beside her. “Ten quid says wrong planet,” she said, grinning and leaning into Jack’s shoulder.   
  
Not feeling jealous that she was leaning into Jack the same way she’d leaned into him a moment ago. Not at all.  
  
“I’ll see your ten quid and raise you five,” Jack challenged. “Right planet, wrong time,” he said, tugging on her braids.  
  
“You still owe me a tenner from that disaster on Blitnum! I TOLD you that consort of yours was evil!”  
  
Jack laughed and put his arm around Rose’s waist. “Fine, fine. Evil maybe, but Rose! What that man could do with his -”  
  
A loud cleared throat from the general vicinity of the door made them both look up. “If you two are quite finished...like I was saying. Oienzaes VIII. Best Christmas party in the universe?”  
  
Jack leaned down and kissed Rose on the cheek before heading to the door, both of them missing the death glare that was, of course,  _not_  shot his direction from a decidedly  _not_  jealous Time Lord who quickly retrieved Rose’s hand to keep to himself. Jack pulled open the door and stepped outside.   
  
“‘Course when I say Christmas, I really mean Winter Solstice and when I say party, I really mean festival...” the Doctor’s voice followed him out the door.  
  
“So, what’s the verdict, Doc?” Jack asked, turning around to walk backwards in front of them.  
  
“Perfect, as usual. I don’t know why you two ever doubt me,” he said, sniffing lightly and aiming a cheeky wink over to Rose. Rose’s grin widened and she followed him, skipping slightly to keep up with his long strides. He was in one of his delightful, playful moods today and he was absolutely enrapturing like this.  
  
Jack’s smile widened too, as he turned to walk forward once again. Those two. So damn adorable and they didn’t even know it.   
  
The Doctor started to tell them about the culture and festivities of the planet in his normal lecture mode and Rose listened with rapt attention. She had hated school but she loved this. She could listen to him read a phonebook. “Not being human, not all planets celebrate Christmas, but most places have some sort o’ festival for the renewal of hope, especially during the dark, cold portion of the year,” he said as they walked toward the center of the town. In the distance, Rose could see what looked like tall, purple humaniods flitting around the garishly decorated city.  
  
“This their dark, cold portion, then?” Rose asked sincerely. The planet seemed comfortably warm to her, almost Spring-like on earth and, at least for the moment, the twin suns in the sky beat down on them cheerfully bright. But, if her travels had taught her anything, what was comfortable and bright for her was not necessarily the same for the rest of the universe.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Doctor’s jaw twitch slightly.  
  
Jack gave a low whistle. “They don’t seem to think it’s cold,” he commented, as the occupants of the town came into full view.  
  
They were tall. They were purple. They were beautiful.  
  
They were also naked.  
  
All of them.  
  
Completely stark naked.  
  
As they entered the main square with Rose studiously ignoring the very naked locals and Jack doing nothing of the sort, Rose started to feel a bit lightheaded. Good, but lightheaded. Must be something in the air here. No, maybe not lightheaded per say but free. She felt more free. She leaned into the Doctor closer.  
  
There were bright fairy lights decorating every building, enormous colorful tents with strange foods and large barrels of amber-colored liquid spread throughout the square and, in the center, a large bonfire dominated the landscape. Flowers hung from garlands on nearly every inch of space, their heady scent permeating the air all around, sweet and light. It was wonderful.  
  
She turned to the Doctor to ask him about the scent but her face fell when she saw his. The Doctor’s playful mood seemed to have disappeared, his face quickly becoming all hard lines and frowning muscles as he dropped her hand to take out his screwdriver and scan a nearby totem pole. Jack, taking his eyes of gawking at the locals for a moment, turned to them once again, presumably to make a crude remark about abundance of purple bits surrounding them.  
  
“Oh-ho, Rose! I know that face!” he crowed when he saw the Doctor, grabbing her and spinning her around in an approximation of a swing dance turn until she was under his arm next to him. “You owe me!”  
  
“Doctor?” Rose called to him loudly, over his muttering and the buzz of the screwdriver. She didn’t want an evil plot tonight. She liked it here. The people seemed friendly, bordering on reverent toward them. She felt free and happy and all she wanted to do was enjoy this evening with the Doctor. She eyed the locals nearest the fire, engaged in some sort of complicated dance. Maybe he would even dance with her?  
  
No, that was probably asking too much. But not overthrowing the secret evil dictator for once...was that too much?   
  
“All right, all right,” he said grumpily. “This would appear to not be the Winter Solstice,” he mumbled, looking both frustrated and slightly embarrassed, darkness clouding his face. Why could he never get anything right in this body? All he’d wanted to do was take Rose to see the Winter Solstice...and one up the Captain.  
  
“But it’s a party of some kind, yeah? No running for our lives?” Rose said, disentangling herself from Jack and walking over to clasp his hand in hers.  
  
“No running. And yeah, it’s a party,” he said, reluctantly.  
  
“The wrong party,” Jack interjected, gleefully, picking up a flower lei from one of the hooks near him and placing it around his neck. Two sets of eyes glowered at him. He shrugged and wandered off to introduce himself to some promising looking locals.  
  
“Doesn’t matter. I think it’s brilliant,” Rose said, squeezing his hand, peering up at him, all interest and excitement. “Tell us about it, yeah?”  
  
He opened his mouth, slightly stunned, gazing down at her expression with wonder. Didn’t she care that he was a defective old alien who could never take her to the right places? Didn’t she care that instead of showing her twinkling Christmas lights and the REAL St. Nicholas (who happened to be tall, thin and purple), she was instead here in this flower-madness? Didn’t she care that there was an obscenely good looking smartarse trying to sway her his way?  
  
He sighed. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay for a little bit. He’d just have to keep a close eye on Rose’s consumption of the ambrobeer, keep Jack away from Rose and make sure they got back to the TARDIS before the evening’s late night activities. Or Jackie would, most certainly, kill him.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he launched into a monologue about the planet: the weather, the people, the biology of the fish (that was a strange thing to talk to her about...why did he always feel compelled to discuss that?) as he and Rose wandered through the booths together. She asked questions and laughed silverly with him and he even managed to crack a smile a few times. Rose flitted around him, dancing over to run her fingers on an object he described or taste a proffered food sample once he told her it was ok to eat, delightedly making new friends with the oddly respectful naked, purple aliens but she always returned to him. Her hand brushed his, her shoulder bumped him in the chest, her head found his leather-clad shoulder.   
  
Settling in under his arm as they walked, Rose chattered away at him and he eyed the top of her head tentatively. Maybe she was having a good time after all. Maybe she was enjoying his company. Maybe she would even dance with him...  
  
Whoa. Where had  _that_  come from? He didn’t dance. Except when he had to...to prove his masculinity, of course.   
  
And he certainly didn’t dance with companions. Except when he had to prove to bothersome Captains that certain yellow-haired humans on his ship were off limits.  
  
But he absolutely didn’t dance, with a companion, in the middle of a giant fertility celebration. Except...except maybe if she asked him.  
  
Slowly, his mood shifted and he started to marvel at the planet with her, reveling in her joy as much as she reveled in the planet. She was watching the festivities with bright eyes, delighting in the people and the activity, her wonder shining through and making him feel more alive. If she found such delight in this place, perhaps he could, too.   
  
They bought a large basket of deep-fried somethings that the Doctor assured Rose were very-similar-to-but-really-nothing-like chips and a large mug of the ambrobeer, sharing everything, drinking from the same mug, fingers brushing one another in the greasy mess, fighting playfully over a not-quite-chip when they both grabbed the same one. The Doctor won, of course, but instead of putting it in his mouth, he held his prize up in the air with one eyebrow raised.  
  
Rose looked at him, slightly confused but grinned anyway, raising her eyebrow back at him. He rolled his eyes and mimed opening his mouth and, pulse slightly elevated, Rose followed the action. Reaching forward ever so gently, the Doctor placed the “chip” into her mouth, following the action with an almost imperceptible brush of his thumb against her bottom lip.  
  
She was suddenly aware of how very close they were sitting, the hand of hers not in the basket wrapped around his waist, under his jacket, her thigh pressing heavily on his, her torso flush against his long, lean chest.  
  
Shyly, she reached out and picked up the last of their treats. Nervously, she held it out to him and he opened his mouth, ice blue eyes locked on hers. She slowly moved it forward and placed it in his open mouth, letting her thumb brush against his bottom lip with the tiniest bit more pressure than he had done to her. Rose watched as his eyes darkened slightly in the flickering firelight. She didn’t think she’d imagined that. She hoped she hadn’t imagined it.  
  
He swallowed and his hand reached up to cup her cheek, long fingers running lightly over the length of the delicate bone there before tracing back to move into her hair. The Doctor leaned forward just a tiny bit, a centimeter or two perhaps and Rose held her breath. He was going to kiss her. She knew it. “Rose...” he whispered gently, his breath ghosting across her skin.  
  
“ROSE!” another voice bellowed, surprising them both so much they almost fell off the log on which they’d been sitting. If Rose’s arm hadn’t been holding onto him so securely, she definitely would have been on the ground. They both quickly retreated from each other and Rose saw Jack bounding across the firelit circle toward them. He had, at some point, forgone his clothes. Rose rolled her eyes. Of course he had. And of course he’d chosen THAT moment to interrupt them. Whatever ‘that moment’ had been.  
  
She chanced a glimpse over at the Doctor whose gaze was shuttered once again and who was staring at his clasped fingers as though they were the single most interesting sight he had ever seen in nine hundred years.   
  
“What, Jack?” she asked, sighing and standing up because sitting down practically on the ground and talking to a naked Jack’s waist was, well, distracting. A naked Jack who, like pretty much every single male she’d seen walking around the festival, was very, very aroused by all the drinking and the dancing and the general nakedness.  
  
“Come dance with me! I learned all the steps. It’s not hard,” he said, grinning broadly at her, completely at ease and delighting in her unease.  
  
“‘m not dancing with you like that,” she said, keeping her eyes locked on his and not looking anywhere near...anything else.  
  
“Ah, c’mon, Rose! Look around! Everyone’s naked! Well, almost everyone,” he said, leering over at the completely clad, now-brooding Time Lord.  
  
“Shut up, Jack,” he said coldly, standing abruptly and stalking off into the darkness. Stupid Time Lord for trying to kiss her. Stupid human for interrupting them. Stupid human for asking her to dance when the Time Lord wanted to ask her to dance. Stupid other human for making him want to kiss and dance in the first place.   
  
“What’d I say?” Jack asked Rose, looking after the retreating form.   
  
“Oh, nothing,” Rose said, watching the Doctor leave sadly. She’d been so close.  
  
“Seriously, though. I would LOVE to find out what he’s hiding under that denim and leather. Big feet, big hands, big ears,” Jack trailed off. “Bet he’s got a big -”  
  
“Yes, I know where you’re going with that,” Rose said, her face tinging pink.   
  
“You’re so cute when you blush,” Jack teased again, pulling on her braids. “You’d like to know, too,” he singsonged at her, delighted when her blush deepened. “Plus, I wouldn’t mind finding out what’s under here either,” he continued, playfully tugging at the bottom of her low-cut vest top.  
  
She laughed lightly and slapped his hands away. “Never gonna find out. Either way,” she said.   
  
Jack gave a long suffering sigh. “I know. Can’t blame a guy for trying, though. Now c’mon. Dance with me? Please?”  
  
Rose bit her lip and Jack tried not to groan. This festival was quite clearly an exploration and celebration of sex and the two sexiest people he knew were 1) completely oblivious 2) destined never to be his and 3) dancing around the person they  _were_  clearly destined to be with in a very annoying, complicated (and generally arousing) show of conflicting bashfulness and brashness. Being around them constantly was a battle of hard fought will. Maybe he should just try locking them in a cupboard together for a while.   
  
Rose was feeling light and sexy and she really did want to dance. More specifically she wanted to dance with the Doctor. Glancing off into the darkness the way the Doctor had gone, she figured he’d be back at the TARDIS by now, jammed under the console angrily cursing and determined to pretend like that little heated moment between them had never happened. Jack would have to do. “Find something to cover up with and I’ll dance with you,” Rose said, finally. “One dance.”  
  
Darting over to one of the booths, Jack pulled a long, colourful piece of cloth down from the display and jauntily wrapped it around his waist. It did nothing to hide his arousal but at least she couldn’t directly see anything around that ridiculous little impromptu sarong of his. She giggled and he waggled his eyebrows at her, grabbing her hand and dragging her out into the whirl of bodies.  
  
The Doctor scowled from the shadows and then he sighed. He was not jaunty. He couldn’t waggle his eyebrows...not without looking completely ridiculous, anyway. Maybe next time. And it was probably beneath his Time Lord dignity to wear a sarong but apparently Rose liked jaunty, eyebrow-waggling, sarong-wearing gits. Fine. He crossed arms and stared at them, watching as hands other than his did what he wanted to do.  
  
This dance (like life in the TARDIS, Jack thought) was all about unresolved sexual tension. Couples barely touched on each pass through, a brush of a finger across a palm, the slightest whisper of contact between legs and arms. Rose caught on very quickly and it felt like everyone was watching them. It was intoxicating. Eyes locked before backs were turned and then locked again, further apart. Eyeing the locals, Jack wasn’t sure what this whole evening of tension was all building up to, but he was completely certain that he was REALLY going to enjoy it.  
  
The Doctor was not enjoying it. At all. Leaning against one of the poles, his body a dark lean, grim line, he watched the dancers. The dancer. Rose. His dark angry eyes watched as Jack and countless others passed close to Rose, touching her, looking at her, wanting her. He was the only one that was allowed to do that.  
  
No. No, he wasn’t. What was he thinking? He couldn’t touch her, not like he wanted to. Could only look at her like that when she wasn’t looking at him. He couldn’t want her, not like that. But he did. That was the problem. The big problem, apparently. He shifted uncomfortably. His leather jacket felt heavy and too warm on his shoulders and he tried to ignore it. Caught in his dark musings, he didn’t notice as one of the tall purple Oienzaens came up to him   
  
“Spring is beautiful, is she not?” the alien asked, quietly, watching the dancers around the fire as well and gesturing around him. The Doctor looked up at him, surprised and followed the man’s gaze toward Rose, confused. Ah. Not Rose. He must have meant the weather, the festival, their Deity.  
  
“Yes,” he said, quietly in return, his eyes never leaving the lone pink figure among the purples.  
  
“She sweeps in and awakens Winter from his dark sleep. She transforms his darkness into light, his coldness into warmth, his barreness into life,” the Oienzaen continued. The Doctor shifted his eyes from Rose for a moment to assess the man. Ah, again. So he would meet Saint Nicholas on this trip, then. He’d heard of him, the wise, kind, giving elder of the planet whose ideals had spread eventually through the universe. This was a very young Saint Nicholas. He must have landed them quite early.   
  
“Though she flits and flirts with Summer, his fire is too much for her. He is too hot, he is too fickle. His is the passionate, fiery love of many. It will take the cool and calm of Fall to temper him one day. Spring is not his to claim. Spring will always return to Winter, for without her, he withers and dies and without him, she would never blossom and shine.”  
  
He listened half-heartedly to the sacred babble, glad to have even a small distraction from the desperate feeling that he needed to grab Rose and drag her from the midst of all those aroused males and remind her that she was  _his_.  
  
Wait. What? He shook his head and the thought was gone, but he still felt like he needed to escape, quickly.  
  
“Walk with me?” the tall purple alien asked reverently, a request not an order. The Doctor, loath as he was to leave Rose didn’t think he could bear one more moment of Jack’s light caresses over Rose’s skin or he would...he didn’t know what he would do. He fell in step and retreated with the other man away from the circle toward the temple that dominated the South side of the square. Silently, they walked through the temple and the Doctor admired the artwork adorning the walls, depicting the Oienzaes religion that honored the seasons as Gods.   
  
Or at least he tried to admire the artwork. Mostly, he kept remembering the intoxicating light in Rose’s hazel eyes glinting in the firelight. Or the way he could see that line of sweat dripping down her neck, disappearing into her top...He shook his head again. The air in here must be getting to him.  
  
Nicholas pointed to one of largest paintings and in the semi-dark, he could just barely make out two figures intimately engaged as all around them winter’s snows thawed into spring’s greenery. “Spring melts the ice of Winter and together, they bring new life for the planet, new hope for the people. Together they achieve great things but one is nothing without the other.”  
  
They had reached a small, ornately decorated room at the end of of the temple. One tiny, lone candle flickered in the center of the rich, velvet, pillowed floor. He frowned a little in confusion. It did smell a bit strange. He was feeling very, very lightheaded. And aroused. But he put that up to watching Rose cavort around the fireside in that small, vest top...so low cut he could see...  
  
Stop. Stop it.  
  
“Does it please you? Every year we prepare it in the hopes that you might come, that you might bless our festival with your presence, but never did we dream of you choosing us, of you actually being here,” Nicholas said, reverently, bowing before him slightly. Frowning, the Doctor stepped into the room to peer at the candle and examine its strange smell closer. What was he talking about? “Make yourself comfortable, my Lord. The servants will be in to help you prepare for her visit momentarily.”   
  
Wait. What? His eyes flashed up at that and he made a move toward the door, but it shut quite heavily and, just as suddenly, he was unconscious.  
  
Back out at the fire, Jack and Rose’s dance was just ending. She brushed her palm against his once more, ignoring the panting of his chest and the dark look in his eyes, spinning instantly on the spot to see if, by chance, she could spot the only pair of dark eyes she cared about this evening. Maybe he hadn’t left, he’d merely moved off to the side and waited for her. Maybe they could still recapture the evening.  
  
“Rose,” Jack said thickly, following her to the side of the circle, still entranced.   
  
“I’m going t’go back the TARDIS,” Rose announced, wiping her hand across her slightly sweaty forehead. “Who knows what trouble he’s caused her while we’ve been out here. Ta, Jack!” she said quickly, retreating into the darkness before he could follow her. She loved Jack but not like that.   
  
Jack shook his head. Right. Not his. The Doctor had made that quite clear. He sighed and turned back to the circle. The next dance was beginning and this one was much more intimate. A particularly pretty purple male caught his eye, beckoning him forward and Jack whipped off his sarong. Time to dance.  
  
Rose had almost reached the TARDIS when an extremely tall Oienzaen stepped from the shadows. “He awaits you in the temple,” he said, keeping his head bowed and not looking her in the eye as though she were something great and honorable and terrible.  
  
“Who awaits me in the temple?” Rose asked, warily. She just wanted to see the Doctor and maybe take a kip. Well, that’s not really what she wanted to do, but since she wasn’t going to get to do  _that_  she’d settle for saying goodnight to him and then disappearing into the privacy of her room to try out one the fantasies his brief little almost kiss had put into her head.   
  
“The one you seek. The one of ice and wind,” the purple man continued, calmly.  
  
“The one of ice and...oh,” Rose said, sighing slightly and tensing. “Why can’t he come here?”  
  
“He awaits you in the temple,” the purple man repeated, turning on his heel and heading toward the large stone building Rose had seen towering over the fire.   
  
Well, it wouldn’t be an outing if at least one of them didn’t get captured and imprisoned somewhere. She might as well see what all this was about, gather a little information before she started planning his jailbreak. He had promised no running for their lives. Maybe she could get him to pay Jack that fiver she owed now.  
  
Once they walked up the steps in front of the temple, Rose looked around the darkened room as best she could. It seemed strange that in a festival so full of lights that it was so dark in here. It appeared there were four altars and she could, if she squinted, just make out paintings depicting something...the seasons, perhaps?...above each one.  
  
They passed by a heavy doorway that several purple people, all blindfolded, were flitting in and out of, carrying what looked like pots of paint in the darkness. “You can wait in this room, my Goddess,” the man said, stopping in front of another ornate room with a soft floor and a single candle burning in the center. Whoa. Goddess? What was she getting into here?   
  
“The servants will be in shortly to prepare you for your visit. We thank you for your blessings. It is such an honour to have you here,” he finished reverently, bowing to her before leaving the room once again. Rose looked around for a moment, attempting to let her eyes adjust to the darkness and then she promptly passed out.  
  
When she awoke, she was laying on her back on the strangely soft floor. The candle was gone and it was completely, utterly, terrifyingly dark. Her body felt strange, like there was something covering her skin and also a bit strange because the fabric that had, most certainly, been there when she started this evening was not there any longer.  
  
So. She was naked, in a dark room, on a squishy floor, covered in body paint, alone. OK.  
  
Something shifted slightly to her right, making the floor move and she became aware of quiet breathing.   
  
Not alone.  
  
Not OK.  
  
She screamed.   
  
“Rose, Rose, it’s me, ok, it’s me!” a familiar, exasperated voice came from what she had to guess was the opposite side of the room. He really wanted to go to her and comfort her but he couldn’t. Not when she was so beautiful and so...naked. When he’d woken and found her laying on the floor next to him, he’d checked her over to make sure was all right and it had been all he could do to take his hands off her and retreat to the far side of the room.  
  
She shot to her feet, tossing her hair over her shoulder and trying to gain some semblance of balance. It seemed whoever had taken her clothes and painted her, had also taken out her braids and left her hair wavy and wild around her shoulders.  
  
“Doctor?” she asked, quietly, now whispering in the dark which seemed silly after having just screamed but the darkness suddenly seemed huge. Reaching her hands out in front of her, she blindly but carefully stepped toward the sound of his voice.  
  
“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, retreating further into his corner as she began to move. “Can you see anything?” he asked.  
  
“No,” she said, sounding frustrated and adjusting her direction slightly. “Can you?”  
  
There was a short pause. “No,” he said, finally. Actually, superior eyesight and all, he could. He could just make her out in the dim light, shimmering and golden. The Oienzaens had painted her entire body a sparkling gold with swirling navy blue lines highlighting her features, tracing the shape of her face, the curve of her breasts, highlighting the taut muscles of her stomach and legs, making her even more beautiful. No, not just beautiful. She was gorgeous. He could see the gentle swell of her breasts, the line of her neck, the waves of her hair falling behind her. Glancing down at his own hand, he realized he was painted the exact opposite of her, all navy with sweeping gold lines tracing over his body. His equally naked body. He was suddenly very, very glad for inferior human eyesight or she would see exactly what effect she was having on him.   
  
Caught up in studying her lithe body, he hadn’t realized quite how close she had gotten to him until he felt a human warm hand touch his arm tentatively. He yelped and so did she and the hand retreated. “Stay back,” he said gruffly but the hand was already reaching out to him again.  
  
Rose breathed out a sigh as she touched his cool skin, taking comfort both in the fact that she had found him and that he was, well, him. His skin felt a little odd, as though it had a layer of paint on it as well and she wished she could see him properly. Ignoring his warning, she traced her hand up the arm that she had found, over the hard bones of his wrist and up further. No jumper, then. She found a tensed bare bicep and oh how she really, really, wished it was brighter in here because that felt  _wonderful_. The arm was suddenly yanked from her and so she reached out again. “Doctor what are you -” she heard a shifting sound and her outstretched hand connected with and grasped tightly something that definitely felt like a hip. She gasped and so did the owner of said hip and the hand retracted.  
  
“Oh,” she said softly, stepping back from him, blushing wildly and unable to control the surge of arousal through her body at finding him, THE DOCTOR, naked and right in front of her in a dark room.  
  
“Oh,” he said back, sarcastically. Thank Rassilon he’d managed to shift at the last second there or she would have had a handful of a lot more than hip. He couldn’t seem to manage to get his biology under control. And then his nostrils flared and he took in the gorgeous smell of her arousal and he gave up trying. Reminding himself repeatedly that it was because of the pheromone-charged atmosphere of the room and the aphrodisiac contents of the food and drink she had consumed didn’t help at all. She was aroused because of that and he was aroused because of her. And probably a bit because of the pheromones and aphrodisiacs around them. But he would deny that forever. Superior Time Lord biology mantra to hold up, after all.  
  
But what it really meant was she didn’t want him for him. Her silly human body was just reacting to the stimuli around it. He briefly wondered how Jack was faring and then, very quickly, stopped wondering. Jack, he was sure, was fine.  
  
He saw Rose move in front of him to slide down the wall and sit, knees in front of her chest. A large part of him, probably mostly the part of him currently stiff on his stomach, complained that her gorgeous breasts were now hidden from his view until something else, his clenching, traitorous hands itching to reach for her, probably, reminded it that now he could just admire her toned legs for a bit instead. Seemed all that running he put her through had done a lot of good. He shifted carefully to sit down as well, his large, blue, outstretched feet near her golden ones. Finding a position that was comfortable as painfully erect as he was wasn’t easy, but he finally managed to shift around enough to get some relief and control his slight moan.  
  
“So, the kidnapped and locked up in a room together bit, nothing new there...must just be Tuesday,” Rose said and he could hear the smile in her voice. “But the naked and tarted up bit, that’s new.”  
  
He laughed despite himself. “Woulda made some of those other rescue missions a lot more interesting,” he said and then cursed himself. Why had he said that?  
  
Rose’s breath caught slightly but then she disregarded it. She really needed to get herself back under control before she damaged their friendship. He was pretending like everything was normal so she would pretend like everything was normal. “So why’re we in here?” she asked, willing her voice to stay at an acceptable pitch level and willing her errant foot to stop rubbing against his shin.  
  
The Doctor was momentarily distracted by Rose’s toes working up and down his shin. “Er...well. Party out there, right?”  
  
“Yes,” Rose responded and he could see her roll her eyes in the darkness.  
  
“The Oienzaens, in addition to having a fantastic Winter Solstice festival to honor and appease their god of Winter, also have a large party celebrating the passage of Winter to Spring and the new life that comes with it.”  
  
“And that’s the party going on outside now?” Rose asked. She moved ever so slightly toward him. She really, really wanted to be closer to him.  
  
“Yes. It’s a celebration of renewal and life and...well, of...” he trailed off. Rose could tell by the sound of his voice that he was embarrassed. She imagined the slight pinking of his ears and the way he would look down at his boots.   
  
“Spit it out, Doctor,” she said.  
  
“Sex, Rose. It’s a celebration of sex,” he blurted out.  
  
“Oh,” she said, repeating her earlier exclamation.  
  
“Yeah, oh. Anyway, the legend goes that the Goddess of Spring comes to the God of Winter on this day, the day of passage, every year and together the two of them bless the fertility of the planet by, ah, well, by the traditional way.” He reached up and moved his hand to back of his head, scratching there slightly.   
  
“Ok,” she said slowly. “What’s that got to do with us?” she asked, although she really thought she might have an idea.  
  
He took a deep breath, lowered his hand and began speaking but it was not his enthusiastic educator voice. He very carefully kept his emotions in check and under wraps for this speech. He’d had a while to think about Nicholas’ words while he’d been waiting for Rose to wake up and what his impressive Time Lord brain had come up with, he wasn’t completely sure he wanted to share.  
  
“The God of Winter is an ancient being of great power and might. He is distant. He is impassive and he is cold. He comes in the darkest time of the year and destroys everything in his path, obliterating life. He stands, of wind and of ice, impassive as the world around him freezes.” He stopped speaking a for a moment, realizing slowly that Rose had managed to wedge herself into the corner with him, her hand finding his on the plush floor, interlocking their fingers. He sighed and stroked the side of her hand with his thumb, continuing softly, “And then comes the Spring. She is young, innocent and beautiful. Full of light and love. Everything that he isn’t. She awakens the flowers, rejoices in the breeze, bringing with her light to the darkness. She thaws the heart of Winter an’ teaches him how to live again. She takes his hand, she calms his hearts and she makes life bearable once again.”  
  
Rose wondered if he knew he’d said ‘hearts’ instead of heart. She turned her head slightly to the side to see his eyes blazing back at her in the darkness. All she could see was the blue and white of his eyes. “Their legends say that the very first year, at the beginning of time of all time, she had her choice of lovers. Any in the galaxy could be hers and she chose him. And when the time comes each year, she chooses him, every year, every time. I don’t know why,” he said, softly.  
  
“Probably because she cares about him so much,” Rose answered just as quietly.   
  
“She shouldn’t,” he responded darkly, attempting to suddenly disengage their fingers and shutting his eyes, leaving her only with the darkness once again.  
  
“Sounds to me like she’s the type who does a lot of things she shouldn’t,” Rose said, grasping his hand tighter instead of letting go, squeezing gently.  
  
The bright blue of his eyes appeared again, blazing at her and staring into her soul for a moment and then crinkling slightly. She could almost imagine the grin he probably now wore and wished she could see his whole face. She loved it when he grinned like that. Squeezing his hand once more, they sat in silence for a few more moments.  
  
“So what’s the plan?” Rose asked, finally. “Don’t suppose you’ve got a screwdriver hidden round there someplace?” she asked, bumping his (naked) shoulder with hers. He’d almost forgotten the whole naked part and the sudden feel of extra skin to skin was extremely distracting. How had he managed to forget that?  
  
He snorted. “And where exactly, Rose Tyler, d’you think I’d be keeping it?” he asked, wishing it was brighter so he could see the adorable shade of pink she had probably just turned.   
  
Instead, he could just see a brilliant flash of white teeth and he bet her tongue was sticking in them. Going for the cheeky answer, then. “Well, Jack told me -”  
  
“Oi! Enough of that, then. I don’t need to hear any details like that about the Captain, thank you,” he said, grinning at her even though she couldn’t see him.  
  
“When are they planning on letting us out? Since when is it a good idea to lock up gods, anyway? Shouldn’t they be worried about our wrath or something?”  
  
“They think they’re doing us a favour, locking the rest of the world out so we can get on with the blessing part without being disturbed until we’re done,” the Doctor said.  
  
“And how are they gonna know when we’re ah, done?” she asked.   
  
The Doctor mumbled something into his lap and Rose brought her free hand up to poke him in the chest. “What was that?” she asked.  
  
He cleared his throat and then coughed. “They’re listening,” he said, finally.  
  
“What?!?!” Rose exclaimed, breaking the low whisper they’d been speaking in for a while now.  
  
“Shhhh,” he said. “Not gonna think much of me love making are they, if you’re yelling things like that,” he chastised.  
  
Rose’s brain shorted out and she blushed a royal scarlet. He could tell that her mouth was gaping open. The Doctor, looking over at her, bemused, simply beamed. Not often he made Rose Tyler speechless. He rather liked it.  
  
“Ok...,” Rose said slowly, once she had regained the power of speech. “So what you’re saying is that they’re not letting us out until they’ve heard the end of our, I mean, us, that is, I... of it,” she finished lamely.  
  
“Yes,” he said, succinctly.  
  
“How can you tell all that? Are you reading their minds?” Rose asked him.  
  
“I can hear them talking outside the door,” the Doctor replied. He honestly could have read their minds if he’d wanted but if he lowered his mental shields even for a moment he wouldn’t be able to resist Rose and therefore couldn’t held responsible for his actions. And, ever since the Time War, telepathy wasn’t as easy as it used to be. He generally tried to ignore the gaping silence in his head. Silence that Rose had started to fill with her chattering and her noisy inferior respiratory system and her infernal humming. The comforting brush of her human-y mind against his was enough even if she didn’t know she was doing it.   
  
Rose supposed she shouldn’t be surprised at that. He always was making comments about his superior senses. How many had he told her he had the other day? 27? Something like that.   
  
Wait a moment. If he could hear voices on the other side of a gigantic stone wall, surely he could also see in the dark...  
  
No. Couldn’t be. He’d said he couldn’t see her.  
  
Could he?  
  
She needed to stop that train of thought right now, so she blurted out the first thing she could think of. Caught in his musings, the Doctor barely heard Rose begin to speak until he almost choked on her question. “Couldn’t I just fake it?” she asked, finally.  
  
“Oi!” he said, instantly offended. Rose had said to him in the London Blitz she didn’t think he had any moves and he thought he had proved, quite clearly that he did. Of course, he’d pretended like they had been talking solely about dancing when they both knew they weren’t. He may not be the most experienced lover, and never with a human, but, should he choose to do it, he could definitely, he would satisfy...she would definitely....but of course he was certainly  _not_ going to...Time Lord...oh, bugger.   
  
Rose laughed. “I mean, just, you know, we wouldn’t have to actually...”  
  
“Oh. You want to, er, go it alone, you mean?” he said. Rassilon. If she was going to...with him right here...he would probably regenerate from sexual frustration. Or give in and shag her anyway. Not that she seemed to want to. With him, anyway. If Jack had been the one in here, they’d probably have done it already. Nope. Not thinking it about that.  
  
Was it so wrong to want her to want him?  
  
Rose didn’t think it was possible for her to blush any brighter than she had mere seconds ago but that was before she heard the Doctor casually ask her if she was going to wank with him right there, naked, in the room next to her.  
  
“God, no!” she breathed after a moment. “I, er....I meant...haven’t you ever seen ‘When Harry Met Sally’?” she asked, desperately.  
  
Oh. Well. That made more sense. And was the tiniest bit disappointing. Although, just hearing her, even if it was fake, even if they were sitting in the middle of a crowded restaurant eating pie, much less sitting in a fragrant, dark room together naked, he might regenerate anyway.  
  
He made a noncommittal noise at her. His Eighth body had been particularly fond of Earth’s romantic films, especially when he’d needed a distraction from the war councils on Gallifrey and it was a quirk he never quite understood. This body, however, seemed to have no intention of admitting that to anyone. Ever. Although, judging from the barely suppressed giggle from Rose, he thought she’d figured it out on her own.  
  
“Might have done,” he said, finally. She giggled again.   
  
“Oh we are sooooo watching that when we get back to the TARDIS,” she snickered. Of course, watching a film that centered on two best friends who have friendship-ruining sex only to eventually figure out they were meant for each other all along was perhaps not the best film to watch with your best friend who had no intention of doing either of those things.  
  
“Right. So...good idea. Ah...are you going t’get on with it then?” he asked, not sure where to go with the conversation now.  
  
Rose blushed once again. He was so aware of her right now, he could feel the heat radiate through her body, sweeping down from her cheeks to her chest and further, settling at the junction of her thighs which was burning, so hot. Oh, Rassilon but he wanted to touch her. Just run his fingers up her thighs and feel the wetness he knew would be there, he could smell was there...  
  
“Could you...go over there?” she interrupted his thoughts, letting go of his hand and turning away from him. “And, I dunno, turn off your ears or something?”  
  
“I’m not a robot, Rose,” he said fiercely, standing quickly up and moving away from her to stand in the opposite corner from her, turning away and leaning his forehead on the wall. He had feelings and wants and needs just as much as anyone else. Didn’t she understand that?  
  
Rose stared in the direction it sounded like he had gone, unsure of what exactly had offended him. The blaze of his eyes had disappeared and she couldn’t see or hear him at all now. It was almost like she was alone. She closed her own eyes. Maybe she could just imagine she was in her own room on the TARDIS, caught in one of her fantasies about him and just forget that he was standing right there. Ok.  
  
So...she shifted through her fantasies, a bit embarrassed that there were so many and she hadn’t been travelling with him for that long and settled on one of her favorites. After Charles Dickens, after Gwenyth’s death, after the horrible zombie people, she’d gone back to her room to change out of the beautiful dress and wash off the ash and reminders of Dickensian London, trying to get her thoughts and emotions under control. She cried silently in the shower for a bit, letting the warm water soothe her, mourning those people, mourning Gwenyth and even poor Mr. Sneed. She’d felt a little better after her shower, but once she’d gone to bed, the nightmares returned and she kept seeing the zombie people and this time they didn’t escape. The Doctor became a zombie person...she died, he died, they failed. The Earth burned.   
  
She’d awoken to find him, the real him, at her side with comforting words and concerned gazes. He’d sat beside her and soothed her fears and then watched over her while she slept the rest of the night. Little did she know, but he also chased the nightmares from her head and replaced them with happier dreams. She’d awoken the next morning to find him missing from the chair but her memories and her fantasies of how that night could have gone differently still lingered.  
  
Rose thought of the his imagined phantom light touches over her body and started to make what she hoped sounded like authentic sounds for the experience. It didn’t take long however, before she stopped thinking about if it sounded right and just focused on her fantasy. It would, she knew, because she was quite vividly imagining it. It took every single ounce of her self-control not to touch her throbbing, wet center even as she shifted restlessly trying to get some friction there. It would have to wait until she got back to the TARDIS, until he was locked several long rooms away not two meters away in the same room.  
  
The Doctor, for his part, was having an equal battle with his self control across the room. The first slightly breathless sounds she made had sent his hips forward into the wall and it was all he could do not to moan at the sudden pressure on the place he’d been steadfastly ignoring. With great strength he’d managed to pull away and ignore the rippling there, his hands clenched tightly his sides, determined not to circle his erection and stroke, to give him the relief he so desperately wanted. He’d have to wait until they were back at the TARDIS. How he was going to run when he was so hard, he didn’t know...or how he was going to keep Rose from noticing his tented trousers but as soon as he got to his room...he nearly moaned again at the thought. He knew he couldn’t touch himself now; he’d never be able to stop. And he knew from experience that coming to thoughts of her was long, hard and messy. He couldn’t afford that now, not with her only...1.938132 meters away. He wanted her. He needed her.   
  
But he can’t. He shouldn’t.   
  
Meanwhile, Rose was gearing up for the ‘big finish’ across the room. Her pants had grown faster and less controlled, her moans deeper, as she imagined him losing his poise, thrusting into her faster, harder, more desperate. It would be fast and hard, she thought, the first time with him. She imagined his rough, callused thumb, the one that so often stroked the side of her hand, reaching down and pressing into her clit and she gave one last shout and, unable to help it, cried his name.  
  
The Doctor whipped around and the sound of his name and searched her form with his eyes, crossing the room toward her. Her own eyes were closed and her body was slumped slightly at the effort and he could still feel, smell, see the heat between her legs. This must be as hard for her (no pun intended) as it was for him. Poor humans and the little control they had over their sexual impulses. Of course, the steel flint of his manhood resting on his stomach argued against his own control at the moment. Had she been teasing, yelling his name like that? Known that he would now, for the rest of eternity, come with that sound in his own head? Or at least for the rest of this body and its strange proclivity for sexual impulses. He couldn’t remember ever having a body this sexual. Well, except possibly his eighth during the Time War but he’d been stressed and going a bit mad then, he thought. Golden women in his dreams and all...   
  
Golden woman. He looked down at the golden woman at his feet. Could he somehow have...no. Impossible. Even if that body had been slightly more psychic (much as he would never admit it) than his others, surely he couldn’t have known about Rose. He couldn’t remember what the dream golden woman looked like anyway, never could once he woke up.  
  
Her eyes finally opened and found his so much closer. All she wanted to do was stand up and drown in those icy blue eyes. Maybe press herself against him...no. Can’t. Shouldn’t. He didn’t feel that way.  
  
“All right?” he asked softly, wishing so badly to offer her a hand up but knowing if he did, he’d pull her against him and she’d feel how much he wanted her and they would either go down a path they’d both regret once this was over and they were out of the pheromone laced air or she’d want to go home. And he couldn’t take either of those options, so he simply stood looking down on her.  
  
“Yeah,” she said, pushing up and moving to stand over by what she thought was the door. “D’you think it worked?”  
  
His eyes closed a moment and he listened. “Yeah. They’re coming now to open the door...oh, wait. Oh, no. No, no, no.” he said, growling almost.  
  
“What?” she asked, instantly worried. She could only see his eyes and they had gone nearly black with anger.  
  
“Seems that now since we’ve had time to properly explore each other we’re supposed to entertain the rest of the population ‘thanking’ and ‘exploring’ us,” he said. “There’s a whole line of people out there waiting to get in now,” he finished. Fuck this planet and their stupid customs. No one was going to touch Rose but him.  
  
Or him.  
  
He meant to say ‘or him’.   
  
“Doctor...” Rose said, softly. Even without being able to see him, she could tell he was going into one of his rage modes. The thought of all those purple strangers coming in and touching her was vile and strange and she certainly did NOT want it happening but him in that mode would not help. In fact, it would probably hurt someone.  
  
“They will not touch you, Rose,” he said, fiercely, grabbing her hand since that was the only safe option, then moving his hands so they clutched her bare shoulders tightly. “If I have to burn this temple to the ground, they will not touch you.”  
  
She knew he was telling the truth. He would protect her. “I know. Thank you,” she said, softly. “But let’s think about this. There has to be some other option. We are gods, after all,” she said, lightly hoping to sooth and joke him from this mood. “Jack’ll help -”  
  
“He’s at the front of the line,” the Time Lord growled. “I can hear him out there. They’ve been ‘honouring’ him all night, sounds like. They think he’s the god of Summer.”  
  
“Oh,” Rose said, picturing the wide smirk on Jack’s face. “Maybe he’s got a plan?” she said.  
  
I bet he does, the Doctor thought darkly. He had seen the way Jack looked at them both. Had smelled the man’s near constant arousal. Never going to happen. He didn’t go for fly pretty boys and he didn’t share. He went for Rose and Rose alone.  
  
What? STOP THAT.  
  
“Why don’t I just go out and demand our clothes and stuff back? I’m a goddess, right? S’gotta count for something. That means they have to do what I say, right? And since this has never happened before, I assume they don’t really know how it’s supposed to go. Fickle gods, and all that. The Greek and Roman gods were never doing what they were supposed t’do, after all,” she said.  
  
“Rose Tyler,” he said, smiling at her despite his fury. “What do you know about Greek and Roman gods?”  
  
“Went through a faze,” she said, smiling up at him.   
  
He made a mental note to file that away and take her to ancient Greece or Rome. Or both. Oh! And New Greece and New Rome. “Rose, if you go out there alone, I won’t be able to protect you,” he said.  
  
“Well, you could come out with me,” she returned, one eyebrow raised.  
  
“There is NO way I’m walking out there starkers,” he retorted although if it came to it, he would face the entire population of the planet naked to protect her. “Got too much Time Lord dignity for that. You think humans are stodgy and puritanical? They never met Time Lords. Plus, I’d never be able to look Jack in the eye again. He’d just be imagining me naked all the time.” Naked and aroused, he added silently. Stupid penis and its continued reaction to Rose’s proximity and the fact that she smelled like honey and Time. He could not go out there in the light and let Rose see him like this.  
  
“He does that anyway,” she said, imagining the Time Lord’s horrified look. Rose snickered at that. Jack would, most certainly never let the Time Lord live it down. “But it’s ok for them to see me naked?” she asked.  
  
“NO,” he said, far too quickly. Oo...he needed to cover that up. “I mean, there’s a reason they’ve got us in this dark room. And the people who painted us were blindfolded. They’re not allowed to see our bodies. It’s some sorta respect thing.”  
  
“But touching is ok?” Rose asked, baffled.   
  
“Apparently,” he said.  
  
“Well, if they can’t look at me, that’s good then,” Rose said, grinning. “I come out, they all cower and look away, I demand our clothes and give some sorta scary goddess speech and then we can book it to the TARDIS, wash off this weird paint and lock the doors,” she finished, infinitely proud of that plan.  
  
“What about Jack?” he said, calmly.  
  
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll wander back to the TARDIS once he’s finished being ‘honoured’,” she said. “Or we could leave him for trying to take advantage,” she laughed. “Wait...how’s come they can look at Jack?” she asked, furrowing her brow.  
  
“According to their legends, Summer is much more...free with his affections than any of the other Seasons,” the Doctor said, lamely.  
  
“Ah. Just like Jack, then,” she said.  
  
“Just like Jack, yeah. Are you sure about this, Rose?” If something happened, if she got hurt, if someone touched her and she didn’t want them to, he would destroy this whole planet.  
  
“Yeah,” she answered. “Pretend to be a goddess, how hard can that be?” She grinned at him, released his hand and flipped her wavy hair over her shoulders. Show time.  
  
He watched as she sauntered over to the door, all confidence and swagger, every bit the goddess she was pretending to be. The door opened and she stepped out and he heard the surprised intake of breaths all around and the scrabbling sound of people throwing themselves to the ground. Good girl.  
  
“Humble servants!” she bellowed and he grinned inside the door, watching her as best he could. She was gorgeous. “Winter and I have given your festival our...ah...blessing. We thank you for your hospitality but now we take our leave of you,” she said, her voice leaving no room for doubt, growing more confident as she went. Really, this was rather fun. Rose swept her gaze over the prone purple bodies, rolling her eyes when she got to Jack who was lazily leaning against the wall, clearly enjoying the show.  
  
The purple figure closest to her feet, the one she recognized as the man who had brought her here, raised his head but kept his eyes closed. “But Goddess, the legends clearly state that now we are to honour you with ourselves, to be allowed to share in the fruits of your godly bodies -”  
  
“SILENCE!” she yelled. “Our bodies are for each other alone.” The Doctor shivered at that and wished it were true. “They will not be..ah...”  
  
“Sullied,” the Doctor supplied from the doorway softly  
  
“ - sullied by your mortal touch,” she said. Good thing she and Shireen had read all those mythology books and spent hours lording over the Estate playground as Aphrodite and Venus.   
  
“But Summer has not -” the purple man began to protest, still arguing.  
  
“Summer’s choices are his own,” she said, shooting Jack a look which he returned by raking his gaze up her golden, painted body. She rolled her eyes again and turned her attention back to the purple aliens. “Listen to me, people of Oyen...Oiae...”  
  
“Oienzaes,” the Doctor supplied from the doorway again and she could practically hear him rolling his eyes as he said it.  
  
“Oienzaes. You will bring us our clothes, you will stay as you are until we are gone and then you will continue your festival. Your festival pleased us and we have honoured you with our presence as a reward. Now do as I say or our favour will no longer be with you,” she finished, darkly, trying to make that threat seem as potent as possible.  
  
It worked.  
  
Nicholas gulped and shot to his feet, turning his back to her. He gave an order to the blindfolded figures she’d seen coming out of the room earlier with the paint and they quickly disappeared and then reappeared with their clothing.   
  
“Very good,” she said, relieved to be handed the bundle by one of the figures who thrust it toward her and then hurriedly scurried away. Looks like she’d done a sufficient job scaring them, then.  
  
“You will allow us time to cover ourselves and leave the temple and then you can get on with it,” she finished, lapsing back into normal Rose speak as she darted back into the room with the Doctor.   
  
“Here,” she said, dumping the bundle on the floor between them. The Doctor came over and helped her sift through it all. He quickly found rough denim, scratchy wool and heavy leather. Searching a little further in the stack for stretchy black fabric, he raised his eyes to see Rose with his pants in her hands, staring intently at them, obviously trying to figure out what the scrap of fabric was in the dark. And there went his arousal problem again. He did suppose the fabric felt a little like her stretchy fabric top and what was this in his hand?  
  
Oh. He examined the little tiny skimp of fabric in his hands. A thong. That was definitely not his. Although it did explain why he hadn’t seen any lines on her perfect bum that he had absolutely  _not_  been checking out in her skin tight jeans this morning. He dropped it back on the pile discreetly.   
  
“Those are mine,” he said gruffly, plucking them from her fingers. She blushed and then quickly found the thong on top of the pile that now completely consisted of her clothes. He retreated into the relative darkness of the back corner of the room again to pull on his clothes, his eyes on her the entire time. How as watching her re-dress this erotic? He was infinitely jealous of that tiny little scrap of fabric that wantonly slid up her thighs to press against her and then the jeans that rose to caress her bum, the bra that cupped her perfect breasts...he nearly growled.  
  
“Done yet?” she asked, peering toward where he had disappeared again, probably hiding away all the glorious naked Time Lord that she hadn’t even managed to catch a peek of this whole time. Although she had learned that he was apparently a boxer-brief man and that he liked ‘em tight. That would add a new visual element to her fantasies.  
  
He looked down at himself. He hadn’t managed to get dressed at all, distracted by his jealousy of her clothing. “Almost,” he grunted, pulling on his pants and trousers, tucking himself uncomfortably away and trying not to moan at the pressure provided. The jumper and jacked followed and he hoped his jacket would hide his problem. “Done,” he said, finally, shifting around until he found a relatively comfortable position so he could walk and, possibly, run.  
  
Walking forward, he grabbed her hand the two of them walked from the room, golden and blue hands interlaced. Standing in flickering candlelight of the temple, they both took a moment to observe each other in the open, admiring the skillfully painted swirls and colourful sheen of their skins.  
  
Outside the room, the festival had quite obviously gone ahead and moved forward because all around them were writhing, undulating purple bodies all intimately engaged. Purple bodies plus Jack who was surrounded by followers and who winked cheekily at them before throwing his head back and moaning loudly as one of the people did something apparently brilliant.  
  
Rose and the Doctor both blushed scarlet. “Rose?” he asked quietly and she lifted her embarrassed eyes to meet his.   
  
“Yeah?” she said, breathlessly.  
  
“Run,” he said and the two of them took off toward the TARDIS, away from the figures, away from the temple and away from the festival. Neither of them noticed that the painting of Winter and Spring hand in hand above the flower-adorned altar featured a tall, severe looking blue-eyed man and his bright, hazel-eyed blonde mistress gazing adoringly at each other, their love greater than all that had preceded it and all that would follow. Their time would come and when it did, it would be as everlasting as the turn of the seasons.  
  
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They were both laughing by the time they reached the TARDIS and once inside, the Doctor released her hand to lean against the console while Rose collapsed against the door to laugh. The discreet movement of his hips behind that barrier wasn’t just for the support of the console but he would never tell her that.  
  
“Just wait til I tell Mum you took me to an alien orgy!” she sputtered, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes and taking some of the golden paint with it. She raised her eyes to look at the Doctor. Grinning at her in the green glow of the Time Rotor, his skin all dark blue with swirling golden lines her breath caught. He looked so exquisitely alien in that moment. She felt herself fall a little harder for him.  
  
The Doctor watched Rose, caught up in her glee, her head thrown back in laughter, her eyes dancing, the golden sheen of the paint on her skin sparkling and the delicate blue lines so like his language accentuating her features. She looked so exquisite. He felt himself fall a little harder for her.   
  
He shook his head, trying to rid himself of that feeling and at the same time trying to imprint it on his soul. “Oi! Not one mention of this to your Mum. I like my cheek just as it is, thank you very much.”  
  
“Me too,” she said, standing and walking over to lay her hand on his dramatically painted gold cheekbone. He closed his eyes at the touch, missing the soft look she gave him in return and then spun away from her.   
  
“Best be getting all that paint off,” he said harshly, clearly dismissing her, turning from her so he didn’t have to see her expression and he wouldn’t be tempted to caress her cheek in return.  
  
“Ok,” she said quietly and he listened to the sound of her retreating feet from the console room and sighed in relief when she was gone. He traipsed off to the shower to take care of his own paint and other things feeling bereft of her presence. He’d have to do something to make up to her for this adventure. Rome, perhaps? An audience with Caesar? That sounded right.  
  
Late the next afternoon, Jack sauntered into the TARDIS to find the grumpy Time Lord under the console and in no mood for his teasing or mentions of the previous day and no sign of Rose. Jack sighed. They finally get together and this is how they react? He’d made sure he was first in that line to help them escape but Rose had very efficiently seen to that herself. Still, it was too funny. Oh, the look on their faces when they’d stepped out of that room to see the temple filled with horny purple aliens. He laughed out loud again, was consequently and colourfully cursed out in several languages by the Doctor, and set out to find Rose.  
  
Time for some girl talk.   
  
He found her sitting in the media room with an old Earth film playing on the screen. She didn’t seem to be watching it very closely, staring into space and absently picking at her nails. He strode over and paused the movie, collapsing on the couch next to her.  
  
“So, Rosie, I have to know...how was it? Although from the sound of it, I’d say congrats are in order for the Doctor on his performance,” he said, grinning wolfishly at her. He’d expected her to blush, to giggle and then to spill but instead she turned cold eyes on him.   
  
“Shut up, Jack,” she said, reminding him of the Doctor’s reaction last night at the fire, standing up to leave.  
  
“Whoa! What’s up? You can talk to me,” he said, softly, standing as well to put a hand on her shoulder. If the Doctor had hurt her feelings he was going right back into the console room, dragging the alien out by his Doc Martens and giving him a piece of his mind.   
  
“I was faking it, Jack,” she said, sighing and sitting back down on the couch.  
  
“Oh,” he said. Well, that was unexpected. Maybe the Doctor wasn’t as impressive as he boasted about  _everything._  “So it wasn’t good for you, then? Is that why you’re both acting weird today? Because it can sometimes take a few times for couples to figure out - ”  
  
“No, Jack,” she interrupted and there was the blush he’d been looking for earlier. “I mean we didn’t do anything. I was just...ah...making those sounds.”  
  
Jack’s eyes widened in realization. So the two of them had been locked in a dark room, completely naked, on a pheromone laced planet, having eaten aphrodisiacs, and told they had to have sex to get out of the room and they STILL hadn’t managed to shag? Perhaps his cupboard idea wouldn’t work after all. “Oh,” he said. “Well, they were very realistic sounds,” he said, not sure how to respond to that.   
  
“Yeah, well, I have a lot of experience imagining what they might sound like,” she said rather bitterly. “And now he’s being all weird...it was ok last night for a while but then I got too close or something and he snapped at me and hasn’t said two words to me since breakfast.”  
  
“Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry. Men can be really dumb sometimes,” Jack answered.  
  
“What if it made him uncomfortable enough to take me home?” Rose asked suddenly. “What if this ruins everything? He’s my best friend. I mean, yeah, I want more but I’ll take him however I can get him and if he dumps me off now...I just couldn’t take it,” she sniffled and suddenly burrowed into Jack’s side.  
  
“That’s not going to happen, Rosie. I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Jack said honestly, stroking her hair.   
  
“But what if -”  
  
“He needs you, Rose,” Jack said firmly. “He’s not going to drop you off at home. Besides, that’d leave him alone on this ship with me and we both know he doesn’t want that,” he continued, waggling his eyebrows at her and trying to make her smile.  
  
It worked and she gave him a small, watery smile. Then she punched him on the arm. “Speaking of which...what was the idea being in that line, Captain?” she said, eyes narrowing at him.  
  
He held his hands up in surrender. “I wanted to get in and see if I could help you guys escape somehow without being groped by a village full of aliens. Honest.”  
  
“You didn’t seem to mind,” she said, sticking her tongue in her teeth.   
  
“Oh, I didn’t,” Jack replied and the wolfish smile was back. “But I knew you would. You’ve got to trust me, though, Rose. I’d never take advantage of you two. Unless you wanted me to,” he said, winking at her.  
  
She laughed finally and then stood up, stretching. Jack couldn’t help but admire her curves, covered by cloth as they were because he now knew what was underneath. “Cut it out,” she said, smacking him on the arm again.  
  
“Guilty,” he said, laughing. “But just go out there and talk to him,” he urged.   
  
“Ok,” Rose said. “Thanks, Jack.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a great friend.”   
  
“I know,” he said, watching as she left the room. He flipped the movie back on just in time to see a woman in a restaurant do a very good impression of an orgasm. Well, maybe he’d sit back and watch this movie after all.  
  
Rose walked resolutely out the console room, tell herself that she was not, in any way, nervous. She’d just talk to him, they’d straighten this out, then things would go back to normal and she’d simply add navy-painted Doctor in a darkened room on Oienzaes VIII to her fantasy list. The Doctor was out from under the console now, moving around the controls and muttering to himself. He looked up when she entered, a slow smile followed quickly by a look of panic, chased away by the smile again.  
  
“Hello,” he said.   
  
“Hello,” Rose answered, smiling at him. “Doctor, I -”  
  
“Fancy meeting Caesar?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear, ducking to the side and pulling the next lever.  
  
Oh well. It could wait, she thought. She had all of time and space to tell him, after all.  
  
On to ancient Rome, she grinned.


End file.
